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•Single Copies 10 cenis * By the ^eaarsias 





O ~ TINE Magazine for One Year and a De Luxe 


Entered at postoffice, East Aurora, N« Y., for transmission as second- 
class matter. Copyright, 1908, by Elbert Hubbard, Editor & Publisher 




New Thought 


August 1st to 1 2 th, inclusive, at 
East Aurora, Erie Co., New York 

HERE will be two for- 
mal programs daily, after- 
noon and evening, when 
speakers of National note 
will take part. There will also be 
musical events, walks and talks afield, 
and much good fellowship and flow 
of soul. Reservations at Roycroft Inn 
can now be made 3$ 33 33 33 33 33 

T oftentimes seems that the happiest days of 
our lives were spent swinging on the Ol' 
Front Gate. Each chance passer-by endured 
our open-eyed inspection with a smile, pat= 
ting our heads, wondering the while how in 
the world any child could smear so much licorice on one 
face. Q Who could expect a chance acquaintance to know 
that Mother had given us two whole pennies that very 
morning for being good. And at five, one usually knows 
which Kandy Man gives the most for two cents. Q As we 
swung on that OF Front Gate, far out and back, so swing 
we in our Kandy Loves: from licorice to lemon sticks; 
from "All Day Suckers" to jelly beans, back to 
peppermints and out again to bonbons. C£ If the sweets 
of to-day fail to satisfy you, write a note to the Roycroft 

Kandy Kitchen Girls 


In a snow-white kitchen, at Roycroft, with not too many 
pots, kettles and pans for company — two Roycroft Girls 
make Kandy. Sometimes only one makes the Kandy and 
the other — she sits on the window-sill, plays her guitar and 
sings. Q As much joy goes into the making of all Roy- 
croft Kandy, naturally the one who eats takes it out again. 
In fact everything made in the white kitchen stands as a 
monument to some happy moment. One pound of Roy- 
croft Kandy is guaranteed to swing one for an entire hour 
on that Or Front Gate, One Dollar the pound, Post-paid. 

Roycroft Kandy Kitchen Girls 


^MvHE reason for the inevitable note of 
/ dissent against the work of genius is 
not far to seek; it inheres in the con- 
stitution of the human mind, which is 
instinctively hostile to what is "out of the 
common" — and a work of genius is pretty sure 
to be that. It is by utterance of uncommon 
thoughts, opinions, sentiments, and fancies that 
genius is known. All distinction is difference, 
unconformity. He who is as others are — whose 
mental processes and manner of expression 
follow the familiar order — is readily acceptable, 
because easily intelligible to those whose narrow 
intelligence, barren imagination, and meagre 
vocabulary he shares. 

To "the average man" what is new is incon- 
ceivable, and what he does not understand 
affronts him. And he is the first arbiter in letters 
and art. In this "fierce democracie" he domi- 
nates literature with a fat and heavy hand — a 
hand that is not always unfamiliar with the 
critics pen.— A MBR OSE BIER CE 

FTENTIMES a person may be 
a true artist at heart, tho* lack- 
ing the power of expression. To 
think — to feel — to know — with- 
out transmission is indeed a hardship, yet 
this country offers few places where the 
Beginner may indulge his fancy in the 
proper atmosphere. Knowing this, our own 
artists have banded together, starting a 


where the student's every effort will have 
skilled guidance; where good example 
and appreciation go hand in hand 

INSTRUCTORS — Alexis Fournier, Landscape; Jules 
Maurice Gaspard, Portraiture and Illustration; Burt 
Barnes, Landscape, Illustration and Design; Louis 
Kinder and Lorenz Schwartz, Art Bookbinding; 
Fritz Kranz, Leather Modeling. 

In the Land of Immortality Art runs 
rampant and beautiful Nature poses eternally 





^Io ike Homes of 6re©^ 


w e r? nto Printed B ooli Igr 
TKe J^q^crofters tl\eix-» 
oKop wKicK isitiEooSt 
Atxrore^, Erie County 
N e Yo r K 


THERE is something in human nature which always makes 
people reward merit, no matter under what color of skin merit 
is found. I have found, too, that it is the visible, the tangible, that 
goes a long way in softening prejudices. The actual sight of a good 
house that a Negro has built is ten times more potent than pages of 
discussion about a house that he ought to build, or perhaps could 
build jt jt 

The individual who can do something that the world wants done, 
will in the end, make his way regardless of his race. 

— Booker T. Washington 



HIS is a story about a Negro. The 
story has the peculiarity of be- 
ing true. The man was born a 
slave in Virginia. His mother 
was a slave, and was thrice sold 
in the market-place. This man is 
Booker T. Washington. 
The name Booker was a fanciful 
one given to the lad by play- 
mates on account of his love 
for a certain chance dog-eared 
spelling-book. Before this he was 
only Mammy's Pet. The T. stood for nothing, but later a 
happy thought made it Taliaferro. 

Most Negroes, fresh from slavery, stood sponsor to them- 
selves, and chose the name Washington; if not this, then 
Lincoln, Clay or Webster. 

This lad when but a child, being suddenly asked for his name, 
exclaimed, "Washington," and stuck to it. 
The father of this boy was a white man, but children always 
take the status of the mother, so Booker T. Washington is a 
Negro, and proud of it, as he should be, for he is standard by 
performance, even if not by pedigree. 

This Negro's father is represented by the sign X. By remain- 
ing in obscurity the fond father threw away his one chance 
for immortality. We do not even know his name, his social 
position, or his previous condition of turpitude We assume 
he was happily married and respectable. Concerning him 



legend is silent, and fable dumb. As for the child we are not 
certain whether he was born in 1858 or 1859, and we know 
not the day or the month. There were no signs in the East. 
<IThe mother lived in a log cabin of one room, say ten by 
twelve. This room was also a kitchen, for the mother was 
cook to the farm-hands of her owner. There were no win- 
dows, and no floor in the cabin save the hard-trodden clay. 
There was a table, a bench and a big fireplace. There were no 
beds, and the children at night simply huddled and cuddled 
in a pile of straw and rags in the corner. Doubtless they had 
enough food, for they ate the crumbs that fell from the rich 
man's table — who, by the way, was n't so very rich. 
One of the earliest recollections of Black Baby Booker was 
of being awakened in the middle of the night by his mother to 
eat fried chicken. Imagine the picture — it is past midnight. 
No light in the room save the long, flickering streaks that 
dance on the rafters. Outside the wind makes mournful, 
sighing melody. In the corner the huddled children, creeping 
close together with intertwining arms to get the warmth of 
each little half -naked body. 

The dusky mother moves swiftly, deftly, half frightened at 
her task. <JShe has come in from the night with a chicken! 
Where did she get it? Hush! Where do you suppose op- 
pressed colored people get chickens! 

She picks the bird — prepares it for the skillet — fries it over 
the coals. And then when it is done just right, Maryland style, 
this mother full of mother-love, an ingredient which God 
never omits, shakes each little piccaninny into wakeful- 


ness, and gives him the forbidden dainty — drumstick, wish- 
bone, gizzard, white meat, or the part that went through the 
fence last — anything but the neck. 

Feathers, bones — waste are thrown into the fireplace, and 
what the village editor calls the " devouring element" hides 
all trace of the crime. Then all lie down to sleep, until the 
faint flush of pink comes into the East, and jocund day stands 
tiptoe on the mountain tops. 

HIS ex-slave remembers a strange 
and trying time, when all of the 
colored folk on the plantation 
were notified to assemble at the 
"big house." They arrived and 
stood around in groups, waiting 
and wondering, talking in whis- 
pers. The master came out, and 
standing on the veranda, read 
from a paper in a tremulous 
voice. Then he told them that 
they were all free, and shook 
hands with each. Everybody cried. However, they were very 
happy in spite of the tears, for freedom to them meant 
heaven — a heaven of rest. Yet they bore only love towards 
their former owners. <J Most of them began to wander — 
they thought they had to leave their old quarters. In a few 



days the wisest came back and went to work just as usual. 
Booker TVs mother quit work for just half a day. *IBut in a 
little while her husband arrived — a colored man to whom 
she had been married years before, and who had been sold 
and sent away. Now he came and took her and the little 
monochrome brood, and they all started away for West Vir- 
ginia where they heard that colored men were hired to work 
in coal-mines and were paid wages in real money. 
It took months and months to make the journey. They 
carried all their belongings in bundles. They had no horses — 
no cows — no wagon — they walked. If the weather was 
pleasant they slept out-of-doors, if it rained they sought a 
tobacco shed, a barn, or the friendly side of a straw-stack. 
For food they depended upon a little corn meal they carried, 
with which the mother made pone cakes in the ashes of a 
camp-fire. Kind colored people on the way replenished the 
meal-bag, for colored people are always generous to the 
hungry and needy if they have anything to be generous with. 
Then Providence sent stray, ownerless chickens their way, 
at times, just as the Children of Israel were fed on quails in 
the wilderness. Once they caught a possum — and there was a 
genuine banquet where the children ate until they were tight 
as drums. 

Finally they reached the promised land of West Virginia, and 
at the little village of Maiden, near Charleston, where a man 
by the name of John Brown was hanged, they stopped, for 
here was the coal-mine and the salt-works, where colored men 
were hired and paid in real money. 


Booker's stepfather found a job, and he also found a job for 
little Booker. They had nothing to live on until pay-day, so 
the kind man who owned the mine allowed them to get things 
at the store on credit. This was a brand-new experience — and 
no doubt they bought a few things they did not need, for 
prices and values were absolutely out of their realm. Besides, 
they did not know how much wages they were to get, neither 
could they figure the prices of the things they bought. At any 
rate, when pay-day came they were still in debt, so they saw 
no real money — and certainly little Booker at this time of his 
life never did. 

owned the salt-works and the 
coal-mine where little Booker 
worked. He was stern, severe, 
strict. But he believed Negroes 
were human beings, and there 
were those then who disputed 
the proposition. 

Ruff ner organized a night-school 
for his helpers, and let a couple 
of his bookkeepers teach it. 
At this time there was not a 
colored person in the neighborhood who could spell cat, 
much less write his name. A few could count to five. Booker 


i ' 


must have been about ten years old when one day he boasted 
a bit of his skill in mathematics. The foreman told him to 
count the loads of coal as they came out of the mine. The boy 
started in bravely, " One — two — three — four — dere goes one, 
dere goes anoder, anoder, anoder, anoder, anoder!" 
The foreman laughed. 

The boy was abashed, then chagrined. " Send me to the night- 
school and in a month I '11 show you how to count !" 
The foreman wrote the lad an order which admitted him to 
the night-school. 

But now there was another difficulty — the boy worked until 
nine o'clock at night, the last hour's work being to sweep out 
the office. The night-school began at nine o'clock and it was 
two miles away. 

The lad scratched his head and thought and thought. A great 
idea came to him — he would turn the office clock ahead half 
an hour. He could then leave at nine o'clock, and by running 
part of the way could get to school at exactly nine o'clock. 
The scheme worked for two days, when one of the clerks in 
the office said that a spook was monkeying with the clock. 
They tried the plan of locking the case, and all was well. 
Booker must have been about twelve years old, goin' on 
thirteen, when one day as he lay on his back in the coal-mine, 
pushing out the broken coal with his feet, he overheard two 
men telling of a very wonderful school, where colored people 
were taught to read, write, and cypher too, also to speak in 
public. The scholars were allowed to work part of the time to 
pay for their board. 


The lad crawled close in the darkness and listened to the con- 
versation. He caught the names " Hampton" and " Arm- 
strong." Whether Armstrong was the place and Hampton 
was the name of the man, he could not make out, but he clung 
to the names. 

Here was a school for colored people — he would go there ! 
That night he told his mother about it. She laughed, patted 
his kinky head, and indulged him in his dream. 
She was only a poor black woman — she could not spell ab, 
nor count to ten, but she had a plan for her boy — he would 
some day be a preacher. 

This was the very height of her imagination — a preacher! 
Beyond this there was nothing in human achievement. 
The night-school came after a day of fourteen hours' work. 
Little Booker sat on a bench, his feet dangling about a foot 
from the floor. As he sat there one night trying hard to drink 
in knowledge, he went to sleep. He nodded, braced up, nodded 
again, and then pitched over in a heap on the floor, to the 
great amusement of the class, and his own eternal shame & 
The next day, however, as he was feeling very sorrowful over 
his sad experience, he heard that Mrs. Ruffner wanted a boy 
for general work at the big house. 

Here was a chance — Mrs. Ruffner was a Vermont Yankee, 
which meant that she had a great nose for dirt, and would not 
stand a " sassy nigger." Her reputation had gone abroad, 
and of how she pinched the ears of her " help," and got them 
up at exactly a certain hour, and even made them use soap 
and water at least once a day, and even compelled them to 



to use a tooth-brush; all this was history, well defined. 
€J Booker said he could please her even if she was a Yankee. 
He applied for the job and got it, with wages fixed at a dollar 
a week, with a promise of twenty-five cents extra every week, 
if he did his work without talking back and breaking a tray 
of dishes. 

ENIUS ! No hovel is safe from it !" 
says Whistler. 

Genius consists in doing the right 
thing without being told more 
than three times. 
Booker silently studied the awful 
Yankee woman to see what she 
really wanted. He finally 
decided that she desired her 
servants to have clean skins, 
fairly neat clothing, do things 
promptly, finish the job and keep 
still when they had nothing to say. 
He set himself to please her — and he did. 
She loaned him books, gave him a lead-pencil, and showed 
him how to write with a pen without smearing his hands and 
face with ink. 

He told her of his dream and asked about Armstrong and 
Hampton. She told him that Armstrong was the man and 


Hampton the place. *l At last he got her consent to leave 
and go to Hampton. 

When he started she gave him a comb, a tooth-brush, two 
handkerchiefs and a pair of shoes. He had been working for 
her for a year and she thought, of course, he saved his wages. 
He never told her that his money had gone to keep the family, 
because his stepfather had been on a strike and therefore out 
of work. 

So the boy started away for Hampton. It was five hundred 
miles away. He did n't know how far five hundred miles is — 
nobody does unless he has walked it. 

He had three dollars, so he gaily paid for a seat in the stage. 
At the end of the first day he was forty miles from home and 
out of money. He slept in a barn and a colored woman handed 
him a ham bone and a chunk of bread out of a kitchen win- 
dow, and looked the other way. 

He trudged on East — always and forever East — towards the 
rising sun. 

He walked weeks — months — years, he thought. He kept no 
track of the days Jt He carried his shoes as a matter of 
economy & 

Finally he sold the shoes for four dollars to a man who paid 
him ten cents cash down, and promised to pay the rest when 
they should meet at Hampton. Nearly forty years have passed 
and they have never yet met. 

On he walked — on and on — East, and always forever East. 
^ He reached the city of Richmond, the first big city he had 
ever seen. The wide streets — the sidewalks — the street lamps 



entranced him. It was just like heaven. But he was hungry 
and penniless, and when he looked wistfully at a pile of cold 
fried chicken on a street stand and asked the price of a drum- 
stick, at the same time telling he had no money, he dis- 
covered he was not in heaven at all. He was called a lazy 
nigger and told to move on. 

Later he made the discovery that a " nigger" is a colored per- 
son who has no money. 

He pulled the piece of rope that served him for a belt a little 
tighter, and when no one was looking, crawled under a side- 
walk and went to sleep, disturbed only by the tramping over- 
head ^ Jt> 

When he awoke he saw he was near the dock, where a big 
ship pushed its bowsprit out over the street. Men were un- 
loading bags and boxes from the boat. He ran down and asked 
the mate if he could help. " Yes!" was the gruff answer. 
He got in line and went staggering under the heavy loads jt> 
He was little, but strong, and best of all, willing, yet he 
reeled at the work. 

" Have you had any breakfast? Yes, you liver-colored boy — 

you, I say, have you had your breakfast?" 

11 No, sir," said the boy, 11 and no supper last night nor dinner 


" Well, I reckoned as much. Now you take this quarter and 
go over to that stand and buy you a drumstick, a cup of coffee 
and two fried-cakes!" 

The lad did n't need urging. He took the money in his palm, 
went over to the man who the night before had called him a 


lazy nigger, and showing the silver, picked out his piece of 

The man hastened to wait on him, and said it was a fine day 
and hoped he was well. 

RRIVING at Hampton, this 
colored boy, who had tramped 
the long weary miles, stood 
abashed before the big brick 
building which he knew was 
Hampton Institute. 
He was so little — the place was 
so big — by what right could he 
ask to be admitted ? 
Finally he boldly entered, and in 
a voice meant to be firm, but 
which was very shaky, said, 11 1 
am here !" and pointed to the bosom of his hickory shirt. 
The Yankee woman motioned him to a chair. Negroes coming 
there were plentiful. Usually they wanted to live the Ideal 
Life. They had a call to preach — and the girls wanted to be 
music teachers. 

The test was simple and severe : would they and could they do 
one useful piece of work well? 

Booker sat and waited, not knowing that his patience was 
being put to the test. 


Then Miss Priscilla in a hard Neill Burgess voice 11 guessed" 
that the adjoining recitation room needed sweeping and dust- 
ing. She handed Booker a broom and dust-cloth, motioned to 
the room, and went away. 

Oho ! Little did she know her lad. The colored boy smiled to 
himself — sweeping and dusting were his specialties — he had 
learned the trade from a Yankee woman from Vermont! He 
smiled. <J Then he swept that room— moved every chair, the 
table, the desk J* He dusted each piece of furniture four 
times. He polished each rung and followed around the 
base-board on hands and knees. 

Miss Priscilla came back — pushed the table around and saw 
at once that the dirt had not been concealed beneath it. She 
took out her handkerchief and wiped the table top, then the 
desk J* & 

She turned, looked at the boy, and her smile met his half- 
suppressed triumphant grin. 
" You '11 do," she said. 



the founder of Hampton 
Institute, and the grandfather 
of Tuskegee, was a white man 
who fought the South valiantly 
and well. 

He se^ms about the only man 
in the North, who, at the close of 
the war, clearly realized that the 
war had just begun — that the 
real enemies were not subdued, 
and that these enemies were 
ignorance, superstition and incompetence. 
The pitiable condition of four million human beings, flung 
from slavery into freedom, thrown upon their own resources, 
with no thought of responsibility, and with no preparation for 
the change, meant for them only another kind of slavery 
General Armstrong's heart went out to them — he desired to 
show them how to be useful, helpful, self-reliant, healthy. 
For the whites of the South he had only high regard arid 
friendship. He, of all men, knew how they had suffered from 
the war — and he realized also that they had fought for what 
ythey believed was right. In his heart there was no hate. He 
resolved to give himself — his life — fortune — his intellect — 
his love, his all, for the upbuilding of the South. He* saw with 
the vision of a prophet that indolence and pride were the 
actual enemies of white and black alike. The blacks must be 
taught to work — to know the dignity of human labor — to 



serve society — to help themselves by helping others. He 
realized that there are no menial tasks — that all which serves 
is sacred. 

And this is the man who sowed the seeds of truth in the heart 
of the nameless black boy — Booker Washington. Arm- 
strong's shibboleth, too, was, " With malice toward none, 
but with charity for all, let us finish the work God has given 

Training Schools, the educational schemes in prisons, the 
New Education ( first suggested by Socrates ) as carried out 
by Stanley Hall, John Dewey, and dozens of other good men 
and women in America. I am familiar with that School 
for the Deaf at Malone, New York, and the School for 

DO not know very much about 
this subject of education, yet I 
believe I know as much about 
what others know about it as 
most people. I have visited the 
principal colleges of America and 
Europe, and the methods of 
Preparatory and High Schools 
are to me familiar. I know the 
Night-schools of the cities, the 
" Ungraded Rooms," the Schools 
for Defectives, the Manual 


the Blind at Batavia, where even the sorely stricken are 
taught to be self-sufficient, self-supporting and happy. I have 
tumbled down the circular fire escape at Lapeer with the in- 
mates of the Home for the Epileptics, and heard the shouts of 
laughter from lips that never laughed before. I have seen the 
Jewish Manual Training School of Chicago transform Rus- 
sian refugees into useful citizens — capable, earnest and ex- 
cellent. I know a little about Swarthmore, Wellesley, Vassar, 
Radcliffe, and have put my head into West Point and An- 
napolis, and had nobody cry, " Genius!" 
Of Harvard, Yale and Princeton I know something, having 
done time in each. I have also given jobs to graduates of Ox- 
ford, Cambridge and Heidelberg, to my sorrow and their 
chagrin. This does not prove that graduates of the great uni- 
versities are, as a rule, out of work, or that they are incom- 
petent. It simply means that it is possible for a man to grad- 
uate at these institutions and secure his diploma and yet be a 
who has nothing the world really wants, either in way of 
ideas or services. 

The reason that my " cum lauda" friends did not like me, and 
the cause of my having to part with them — getting them a 
little free transportation from your Uncle George — was not 
because they lacked intelligence, but because they wanted to 
secure a position, while I simply offered them a job. 
They were like Cave-of-the-Winds of Oshkosh, who is an ice- 
cutter in August, and in winter is an out-of-door horticul- 
turist — a hired man is something else. 

As a general proposition, I believe this will not now be dis- 



putcd : The object of education is that a man may benefit 
himself by serving society. 

To benefit others, you must be reasonably happy : there must 
be animation thru useful activity, good cheer, kindness and 
health— health of mind and health of body. And to benefit 
society you must also have patience, persistency, and a firm 
determination to do the right thing, and to mind your own 
business so that others, too, may mind theirs. Then all should 
be tinctured with a dash of discontent with past achieve- 
ments, so you will constantly put forth an effort to do more 
and better work. 

When what you have done in the past looks large to you, you 
have n't done much to-day. 

So there you get the formula of Education : health and happi- 
ness thru useful activity — animation, kindness, good cheer, 
patience, persistency, willingness to give and take, seasoned 
with enough discontent to prevent smugness, which is the 
scum that grows over every stagnant pond. 
Of course no college can fill this prescription — no institution 
can supply the ingredients — all that the college can do is to 
supply the conditions so that these things can spring into be- 
ing. Plants need the sunlight — mushrooms are different. 
The question is, then, what teaching concern in America sup- 
plies the best quality of actinic ray? 

And I answer, Tuskegee is the place, and Booker Washington 
is the man. " What!" you exclaim, " The Ideal School a 
school for Negroes, instituted by a Negro, where only Negroes 
teach, and only Negroes are allowed to enter as students?" 


And the answer is, " Exactly so." IJ At Tuskegee there are 
nearly two thousand students, and over one hundred and 
fifty teachers. There are two classes of students, " Day- 
School " and 11 Night-School " students. The night-school 
students work all day at any kind of task they are called 
upon to do. They receive their board, clothing and a home — 
they pay no tuition, but are paid for their labor, the amount 
being placed to their credit, so when fifty dollars is accumu- 
lated they can enter as 11 Day Students." 
The 14 Day Students " make up the bulk of the scholars. Each 
pays fifty dollars a year. These all work every other day at 
manual labor or some useful trade. <I Tuskegee has fully 
twice as many applicants as it can accommodate ; but there is 
one kind of applicant who never receives any favor. This is 
the man who says he has the money to pay his way, and 
wishes to take the academic course only «jt The answer 
always is, " Please go elsewhere — there are plenty of schools 
that want your money. The fact that you have money will not 
exempt you here from useful labor." 

This is exactly what every college in the world should say & 
The Tuskegee farm consists of about three thousand acres. 
There are four hundred head of cattle, about five hundred 
hogs, two hundred horses, great flocks of chickenf, geese, 
ducks and turkeys, and many swarms of bees. It is the in- 
tention to raise all the food that is consumed on the place, and 
to manufacture all supplies. There are wagon-shops, a saw- 
mill, a harness-shop, a shoe-shop, a tailor-shop, a printing 
plant, a model laundry, a canning establishment. Finer fruit 



and vegetables I have never seen, and the thousands of peach, 
plum and apple trees, and the vast acreage of berries that 
have been planted, will surely some day be a goodly source of 

The place is religious, but not dogmatically so — the religion 
being merely the natural safety-valve for emotion. At Tuske- 
gee there is no lacrymose appeal to confess your sins — they 
do better — they forget them. 

I never heard more inspiring congregational singing, and the 
use of the piano, organ, orchestra and brass band are import- 
ant factors in the curriculum. In the chapel I spoke to an 
audience so attentive, so alert, so receptive, so filled with 
animation, that the whole place looked like a vast advertise- 
ment for Sozodont. 

No prohibitive signs are seen at Tuskegee. All is affirmative, 
yet it is understood that some things are tabu — tobacco, for 
instance, and strong drink, of course. 

We have all heard of Harvard Beer and Yale Mixture, but be 
JPIaid in sober justice, Harvard runs no brewery, and Yale 
has no official brand of tobacco. Yet Harvard men consume 
much beer, and many men at Yale smoke. And if you want to 
see the cigarette fiend on his native heath, you '11 find him 
like the locust on the campus at Cambridge and New Haven. 
But if you want to see the acme of all cigarette bazaars, just 
ride out of Boylston Street, Boston, any day at noon and 
watch the boys coming out of the Institute of Technology. 
I once asked a Tech Professor if cigarette smoking was com- 
pulsory in his institution. " Yes," he replied, u but the rule is 


not strictly enforced, as I know three students who do not 

Tuskegee stands for order, system, cleanliness, industry, 
courtesy and usefulness. There are no sink-holes around the 
place, no " back yards." Everything is beautiful, wholesome 
and sanitary. All trades are represented J* The day is 
crammed so full of work from sunrise to sunset that there is 
no time for complaining, misery or fault-finding — three 
things that are usually born of idleness. At Tuskegee there are 
no servants. All of the work is done by the students and 
teachers — everybody works — everybody is a student, and all 
are teachers. Cfl We are all teachers, whether we will it or 
not — we teach by example, and all students who do good 
work are good teachers. 

When the Negro is able to do skilled work, he ceases to be a 
problem — he is a man. The fact that Alexander Dumas was a 
Negro does not count against him in the world's assize. 
The old-time academic college, that cultivated the cerebrum 
and gave a man his exercise in an indoor gymnasium, or not 
at all, has ruined its tens of thousands. To have top — head 
and no lungs — is not wholly desirable. The student was made 
exempt from every useful thing, just as the freshly freed slave 
hoped and expected to be, and after four years it was often 
impossible for him to take up the practical lessons of life. He 
had gotten used to the idea of one set of men doing all the 
work and another set of men having the culture. To a large 
degree he came to regard culture as the aim of life. And when 
a man begins to pride himself on his culture, he has n't any to 



speak of. Culture must be merely incidental, and to clutch it 
is like capturing a butterfly — you do not secure the butterfly 
at all — you get only a grub. 

Let us say right here, that there is only one way in which a 
Negro, or a white man, can ever make himself respected. 
Statute law will not do it; rights voted him by the state are of 
small avail; making demands will not secure the desired 
sesame. If we ever gain the paradise of freedom it will be be- 
cause we have earned it — because we deserve it. A make-be- 
lieve education may suffice for a white man — especially if he 
has a rich father, but a Negro who has to carve out his own 
destiny must be taught order, system, and quiet, persistent, 
useful effort. 

A college that has its students devote one-half their time to 
actual, useful work is so in line with commonsense that we 
are amazed that the idea had to be put into execution by an 
ex-slave as a life-saver for his disenfranchised race. Our great 
discoveries are always accidents : we work for one thing and 
get another. I expect that the day will come, and ere long, 
when the great universities of the world will have to put the 
Tuskegee Idea into execution in order to save themselves from 
being distanced by the Colored Race. 

If life were one thing and education another, it might be all 
right to separate them. Culture of the head over a desk, and 
indoor gymnastics for the body are not the ideal, and that 
many succeed in spite of the handicap is no proof of the 
excellence of the plan. Ships that go around the world 
accumulate many barnacles, but barnacles as a help to the 


navigator is an iridescent dream. <J A little regular manual 
labor, rightly mixed with the mental, eliminates draw-poker, 
high-balls, brawls, broils, Harvard Beer, Yale Mixture, 
Princeton Pinochle, Chippee dances, hazing, roistering, 
rowdyism and the bull-dog propensity ^ The Heidelberg 
article of cocked cap and insolent ways is not produced at 
Tuskegee. At Tuskegee there is no place for those who lie in 
wait for insults and regard scrapping as a fine art. As for 
college athletics at the Orthodox Universities, only one man 
out of ten ever does anything at it anyway — the college man 
who needs the gymnasium most is practically debarred from 
everything in it and serves as a laughing stock whenever 
he strips. Coffee, cocaine, bromide, tobacco and strong drink 
often serve in lieu of exercise and ozone, and Princeton winks 
her woozy eye in innocency. 

Freedom cannot be bestowed — it must be achieved. Educa- 
tion cannot be given — it must be earned. Lincoln did not free 
the slaves — he only freed himself. The Negroes did not 
know they were slaves, and so they had no idea of what free- 
dom meant. Until a man wants to be free, each kind of free- 
dom is only another form of slavery. Booker Washington is 
showing the colored man how to secure a genuine freedom 
thru useful activity. To get freedom you must shoulder re- 

If college education were made compulsory by the state, and 
one-half of the curriculum consisted of actual, useful manual 
labor, most of our social ills would be solved, and we would 
be well out on the highway towards the Ideal City. 



Without animation, man is naught — nothing is accom- 
plished, nothing done. People who inspire other people have 
animation plus. 

And animation plus is ecstasy. In ecstasy the spirit rushes 
out, runs over and saturates all. Oratory is an ecstasy that 
inundates the hearer, and makes him ride upon the crest of 
another's ideas. 

Art is born of ecstasy — art is ecstasy in the concrete. Beauti- 
ful music is ecstasy expressed in sound, regulated into rhythm, 
cadence and form. " Statuary is frozen music," said Heine. 
CJ A man who is not moved into ecstasy by ecstasy is hope- 
less. A people that has not the surging, uplifting, onward 
power that ecstasy gives, is decadent — dead. 
The Negro is easily moved to ecstasy. Very little musical 
training makes him a power in song. At Tuskegee the con- 
gregational singing is a feature that once heard is never to be 
forgotten. Fifteen hundred people lifting up their hearts in an 
outburst of emotion — song! Fifteen hundred people of one 
mind, doing anything in unison — do you know what it 
means? Ecstasy is essentially a matter of sex. In art and 
religion sex cannot be left out of the equation. The simple 
fact that in forty years the Negro race in America has in- 
creased from four million to ten million, tells of their ecstasy 
as a people. " Only happy beings reproduce themselves," says 
Darwin. Depress your animal and it ceases to breed, so there 
are a whole round of animals that do not reproduce in cap- 
tivity. But in slavery or freedom the Negro sings, and 
reproduces — he is not doomed nor depressed — his soul arises 



superior to circumstance. Without animation, education 
is impossible. And the problem of the educator is to direct 
this singing, flowing, moving spirit of the hive into useful 

Education is simply the encouragement of right habits — the 
fixing of good habits until they become a part of one's nature, 
and are exercised automatically. 

The man who is industrious by habit is the only man who 
wins. The man who is not industrious except when driven to 
it, or when it occurs to him, accomplishes little. 
Man gets his happiness by doing: and work to a slave is 
always distasteful. The power of mimicry and imitation is 
omitted — the owner does not work — the strong man does not 
work. Ergo — to grow strong means to cease work. To be 
strong means to be free — to be free means no work ! 
It has been a frightfully bad education that the Negro has had 
— work distasteful, and work disgraceful! And the slave- 
owner suffered most of all, for he came to regard work as 

And now a Negro is teaching the Negro that work is beautiful 
— that work is a privilege — that only thru willing service can 
he ever win his freedom. Architecture is fixed ecstasy, in- 
spired always by a strong man who gives a feeling of security. 
Athens was an ecstasy in marble. 
Tuskegee is an ecstasy in brick and mortar. 
Don't talk about the education of the Negro ! The experiment 
has really never been tried, excepting spasmodically, of edu- 
cating either the whites or blacks in the South — or elsewhere. 



A Negro is laying hold upon the natural ecstasy of the Negro, 
and directing it into channels of usefulness and excellence. 
Can you foretell where this will end — this formation of habits 
of industry, sobriety and continued, persistent effort towards 
the right? 

Booker Washington, child of a despised race, has done and is 
doing what the combined pedagogic and priestly wisdom of 
ages has failed to do. He is the Moses, who by his example is 
leading the children of his former oppressors out into the light 
of social, mental, moral and economic freedom. 
I am familiar in detail with every criticism brought against 
Tuskegee. On examination these criticisms all reduce them- 
selves down to three : 

1. A vast sum of money has been collected by Booker 
Washington for his own aggrandisement and benefit. 

2. Tuskegee is a show-place where all the really good work is 
done by picked men from the North. 

3. Booker Washington is a tyrant, a dictator and an egotist. 
If I were counsel for Tuskegee — as I am not — I would follow 
the example of the worthy accusers, and submit the matter 
without argument. Booker Washington can afford to plead 
guilty to every charge ; and he has never belittled himself by 
answering hjs accusers. 

But let thq/facts be known, that this man has collected up- 
ward of six-million dollars, mostly from the people of the 
North, and has built up the nearest perfect educational in- 
stitution in the world. 

It is probably true that many of his teachers and best workers 


are picked people — but they are Negroes, and were selected 
by a Negro. The great general reveals his greatness in the 
selection of his generals : it was the marshals whom Napoleon 
appointed who won for him his victories, but his spirit 
animated theirs, and he chose them for this one reason — he 
could dominate them. He infused into their souls a goodly 
dash of his own enthusiasm. 

Booker Washington is a greater general than Napoleon. For 
the Tuskegee idea no Waterloo awaits. And as near as I can 
judge, Booker Washington's most noisy critics are merely 

That the man is a tyrant and dictator there is no doubt. He is 
a beneficent tyrant, but a tyrant still, for he always, in- 
variably, has his own way in weighty matters — in trivialities 
others can have theirs. And as for dictatorship, the man who 
advances on chaos and transforms it into cosmos, is perforce 
a dictator and an egotist. 

Booker Washington believes he is in the right, and he makes 
no effort to conceal the fact that he is on earth. In him there 
is no disposition to run and peep about, and find himself a dis- 
honorable grave. All live men are egotists, and they are 
egotists just in proportion as they have life. Dead men are 
not egotists. Booker Washington has life, and life in abun- 
dance, and thru him I truly believe runs the spirit of Divinity 
if ever a living man had it. A man like this is the instrument 
.of Deity. 

Tuskegee Institute has applications ahead all the time, from 
all over America, for competent colored men and women who 



can take charge of important work and do it. Dressmakers, 
housekeepers, cooks, farmers, stockmen, builders, gardeners 
are in demand. The world has never yet had enough people 
to bear its burdens. ^ Recently we have heard much of the 
unemployed, but a very little search will show that the people 
out of work are those of bad habits, which make them unre- 
liable and untrustworthy. The South, especially, needs the 
willing worker and the practical man. And best of all the 
South knows it, and stands ready to pay for the service. 
A few years ago there was a fine storm of protest from 
Northern Negroes to the effect that Booker Washington was 
endeavoring to limit the Negro to menial service — that is, 
thrust him back into servility. The first ambition of the Negro 
was to get an education so that he might become a Baptist 
preacher. To him, education meant freedom from toil, and of 
course we do not have to look far to see where he got the idea. 
Then when Tuskegee came forward and wanted to make 
blacksmiths, carpenters and brick-masons out of black men, 
there was a cry, 11 If this means education, we will none of it 
— treason, treason!" It was assumed that the Negro who set 
other Negroes to work was not their friend. This phase of the 
matter requires neither denial nor apology. We smile and 
pass on J> j, 

In 1877 the Negro was practically disenfranchised throughout 
the South, by being excluded from the primaries. He had no 
recognized ticket in the field. For both the blacks and the 
whites this has been well. To most of the blacks freedom 
meant simply exemption from work. So there quickly grew up 


a roistering, turbulent, idle and dangerous class of black men 
who were used by the most ambitious of their kind for politi- 
cal ends. To preserve the peace of the community, the whites 
were forced to adopt heroic measures, with the result that we 
now have the disenfranchised Negro. 

Early in the Eighties, Booker Washington realized that, 
politically, there was no hope for his race. He saw, how- 
ever, that commerce recognized no color line. We would 
buy, sell and trade with the black man on absolute equality. 
Life insurance companies would insure him, banks would 
receive his deposits, and if honest and competent, would 
loan him money. If he could shoe a horse, we waived his 
complexion ; and in every sort and kind of craftsmanship he 
stood on absolute equality with the whites. The only question 
ever asked was, " Can you do the work?" 
And Booker Washington set out to help the Negro win suc- 
cess for himself by serving society thru becoming skilled in 
doing useful things. And so it became Head, Hand and 
Heart. The manual was played off against the intellectual. 
•I But over and beyond the great achievement of Booker 
Washington in founding and carrying to a successful issue 
the most complete educational scheme of this age, or any 
other, stands the man himself. He is one without hate, heat 
or prejudice. No one can write on the lintels of his door-post 
the word, " Whim." He is half white, but calls himself a 
Negro. He sides with the disgraced and outcast black woman 
who gave him birth, rather than with the respectable white 
man who was his sire. 



He rides in the Jim Crow cars, and on long trips, if it is 
deemed expedient to use a sleeping-car, he hires the state- 
room, so that he may not trespass or presume upon those who 
would be troubled by the presence of a colored man. Often in 
traveling he goes for food and shelter to the humble home of 
one of his own people. At hotels he receives and accepts, with- 
out protest or resentment, the occasional contumely of the 
inferior whites — whites too ignorant to appreciate that one of 
God's noblemen stands before them. For the whites of the 
South he has only words of kindness and respect ; the worst he 
says about them is that they do not understand. His modesty, 
his patience, his forbearance are sublime. He is a true Fabian 
— he does what he can, like the royal roycroft opportunist 
that he is. Every petty annoyance is passed over; the gibes 
and jeers and the ingratitude of his own race are forgotten. 
" They do not understand," he calmly says. He does his work. 
He is respected by the best people of North and South. He 
has the confidence of the men of affairs — he is a safe man. 


[VERY year Good Folks from all over 
the World seek to come with us and 
study the Art of Bookbinding. In the 
past, lack of facilities formed natural 
prohibitive barriers that were only re- 
moved this Spring. Our Furniture Shop has now 
given to the Bindery an entire new floor's space 
enabling us to start a 

Roycroft Trades School 

With Mr. Louis Kinder and Mr. Lorenz Schwartz 
as Chief Instructors. 

Mr. Kinder and Mr. Schwartz have both made 
Bookbinding their life-work. Each served a seven- 
years' apprenticeship abroad, later visiting the 
Bookbinding Centers of the World and working 
with the Masters of the Art. Undoubtedly to-day 
they lead the Craft. QNow that nearly every 
Manual Training and High School has added 
Bookbinding to its curriculum, the demand for 
instructors far exceeds the supply & Our Trades 
School, being the only one of its kind in the 
Country, aims to meet this demand in part. How- 
ever as Quality — not Quantity — has ever been our 
watchword, we will accept only fifteen students at 
a nominal tuition of Thirty Dollars per month. 

Accommodations May Be Secured At The Roycroft Inn. Rates On Request. 

Roycroft Trades School, East Aurora, N. Y. 

Top O' The Morning, ElbertHubbard 

OW from East Aurora cometh a new maga- 
zine, THE FRA, (not for mummies) edited 
in all kinds of glory by Elbert Hubbard — 
Optimist. I was idly dawdling (as we country 
critics do, you know,) in a book store, mus- 
sing all the magazine shelves, when I hap- 
pened to see a new, queer looking "bibliozone," which I 
thought at first was some German thing on kindergartens. 
But oh, luck for me I Oh I happy day! I found a prize I 
THE FRA (magazine) is twice as long and twice as wide 
as "The Philistine" — the front has pretty curleques. The 
Roycrofters give us white paper this time A Avaunt the 
meat wrappers I Inside is legible type — but I need not tell 
you of the mechanical side, because you know it must be 
a magazine de luxe. Do you like advertising ? Here is the 
best in America. Really interesting, you know. And then 
on the front is an etching of some one or other — Walt 
Whitman, Ben Lindsey, William Morris, Luther Burbank, 
Tom Johnson, William Marion Reedy, and the like. 
I will not go on and tell you all about THE FRA. Better 
find out for yourself. There are a lot of our foremost writers 
contributing to the "Journal of Affirmation." I do not 
know who else might be included in the list — seems they 
are all there. 

Scattered in amongst the articles and advertising (I wish I 
could invent a new name, for this is truly super-advertis- 
ing) are masses of apothegms, aphorisms and apocalyses — 
whatever they are. 

Elbert Hubbard has done a lot of pounding, there is no 
mistake about that. And doubtless he has set a lot of people 
thinking. But in THE FRA he pounds in another way — 
he "boosts." Long live Elbert Hubbard! — Mark Mattoon, 
Literary Editor, in "The Treasure State," Helena, Mont. 

EARNED men are those who know 
the classics. QWise men are those who 
know humanity. <{ Elbert Hubbard 
knows every kind of man, including 
learned men, better than any other living man 
who writes. QHe gets his wonderful effects by 
using as symbol the thousand and one things that 
a learned man would never think to mention, 
nor care to mention, even if he knew them J> 
Hubbard is learned, and he is also wise. Common 
people understand him, and very naturally the 
pedants fear him, for he knows that they know 
nothing — a thing that wise men admit, but fools 
never do. We use the foreign phrase to impress the 
reader, not to enlighten him. And doctors write 
prescriptions in Latin for the same reason. Health 
is a form of truth, and is so simple that to save 
our big-wigs we would keep it secret and make it 
complex. The sciolist clings to his dead languages 
and his dead dignity, as Lawyer Marks did to his 
umbrella in time of war, 

Hubbard is so big he can afford to shed his dignity 
and be natural, and acting naturally, of course 
the pretenders call him a poseur J> This is the 
tribute that pretense pays to power. 

—(Dr.) J, H. Tilden 


M 21 .'48 


THE F R A ? 

THE FRA is the Magazine that is 
never thrown away ! It contains no Mental 
Ptomaine nor is it a Pudding Publication 
for the Publican: rather a Message direct 
from Thinker to Thinker. 
THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, New York 

b y 



One Hundred and Sixty -Two Separate Biographies of Men and 
Women Who Have Transformed the Living Thought of the World 


Vol. I. To the Homes of Good Men and Great 
Vol. n. To the Homes of American Authors 
Vol. HI. To the Homes of Famous Women 
Vol. IV. To the Homes of American Statesmen 
Vol. V. To the Homes of Eminent Painters 

LITTLE JOURNEYS: up to Volume V., inclusive, contain twelve 
numbers to the Volume and they were printed by G. P. Putnam's Sons, 
but bound by The Roycrofters. Gilt top, uncut edges, title inlaid, in 
limp leather, silk lined, Three Dollars a Volume. A few bound specially 
ana solidly in boards, ooze calf back and corners at Five Dollars a 

To the Homes of English Authors 
To the Homes of English Authors 
To the Homes of Great Musicians 
To the Homes of Great Musicians 
To the Homes of Eminent Artists 
To the Homes of Eminent Artists 
To the Homes of Eminent Orators 
To the Homes of Eminent Orators 
To the Homes of Great Philosophers 
To the Homes of Great Philosophers 
To the Homes of Great Scientists 
To the Homes M Great Scientists 

Vol. VI. 

Vol. vn. 
vol. vm. 

Vol. IX. 
Vol. X. 
Vol. XI. 



Vol. XVI. 
Vol. XVII. 

Vol, XVm. To the Homes Great Lovers 
Vol. XIX. To the Homes c Great Lovers 
Vol. XX. To the Homes of Great Reformers 
Vol. XXI. To the Homes of Great Reformers 
Vol. XXH. To the Homes of Great Teachers 

Beginning with Volume VI.: Printed on Roy croft water-mark, hand- 
made paper, hand-illumined, frontispiece portrait of each subject, 
bound m limp leather, silk lined, gilt top, at Three Dollars a Volume, 
or for the Complete Set of Twenty-two Volumes, Sixty-six Dollars. 
Specially bound In boards, ooze calf back and corners, at Five Dollars 
per Volume, or One Hundred and Ten Dollars for the Complete Set. 
Sent to the Elect on suspicion. 



^O0iis; And the 

WIDER h ^^j^^f^